


One Dance

by LifeOfClaude



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Clubbing, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Grinding, M/M, Shore Leave, Song Lyrics, Star Trek Beyond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 16:17:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16790401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeOfClaude/pseuds/LifeOfClaude
Summary: Jim stands Bones up at a club on shore leave in Yorktown, and somehow, he ends up dancing with Chekov.





	One Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all!  
> This is kinda cracky, and I suppose borderline song!fic.  
> It was heavily inspired by the song "Play" by Jax Jones and Years & Years. (I absolutely encourage you to listen to it before, after, or during reading this! Link here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuIrr-qJ_UQ )  
> Anyway, it's just a bit of fun. (And also super gay).  
> Enjoy!

Len was glad to be on shore leave. Of course he was. He and the rest of the Enterprise crew were well overdue a long break and it would be good to finally have some time to properly relax without the duties of being the CMO hanging on his shoulders. Only thing was, they were staying on a space station; Starbase Yorktown, to be exact. Len had never been a huge fan of staying on space stations, and this one looked, as he had stated earlier that day to the entire bridge crew, like _“a giant snow globe in space just waiting to break”_. The entire station was habituated by millions of individuals, species upon species, and was constructed of endless skyscrapers and highly technical buildings that certainly made San Francisco’s Starfleet locations look minuscule and outdated in comparison.

That wasn’t the biggest part of his problem, though. Len had somehow managed to agree to going out to a club with Jim that apparently “played classical music”. Len didn’t really listen to classical music. His daughter, Joanna, enjoyed some of the stuff created way back in the 21st century, and so he was sometimes subjected to put up with it. Otherwise, he was happy to stick to peace and quiet whenever he got it. But, it was Jim’s birthday, and if he wanted to go out clubbing, Len supposed he could suffer for one night of his shore leave and pretend to enjoy himself.

He walked through the streets to his destination, passing other crew members he was on a regular-work-basis with, and gave them small nods or smiles. Nobody was in uniform anymore, all dressed in their usual Civilian clothes for their first night out. Len actually had trouble choosing an outfit. Knowing they were going to a club, which meant people, lots of people all bunched together and creating excess body heat, he struggled to find clothes that would be suitable. Eventually he had settled on some cream coloured jeans, comfortable plain, brown sneakers, and a loose, grey cotton t-shirt that buttoned down to almost the middle of his chest. He hoped Jim wouldn’t give him shit, since he pretty regularly called Len an “old man” and critiqued his wardrobe, giving him “tips”. It was painfully annoying, to say the least.

It wasn’t too much longer before he found himself entering the club. Jim had said he would meet him inside at the bar and to order them both a drink. Len blindly navigated his way through the mass of bodies in the dimly lit club, already registering that there was indeed classical music playing, sounding almost identical to what you would probably hear in a club from the 21st century. Frankly, it was awful, and Len felt incredibly determined to find this bar and down a drink already. 

Finally, he found it, and ordered both he and Jim double whiskeys from a cheerful Andorian, bopping away to the music as they poured both drinks in record time. Len scanned through his credits and swung around at the bar, sipping his drink and scanning the room for any sign of Jim. Of course he was late. Damn typical, being late to his own, planned birthday celebration. Len wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with himself until his blessed best friend decided to actually make an appearance. He glanced down at his now empty glass and with a sigh, carelessly took Jim’s drink and gulped that down, too. His chest was warm with alcohol and he felt all of the tension in his body start to melt away as the whiskey kicked in. It was damn strong, actually. He ordered another.

Len waited a further fifteen minutes before he assumed Jim just wasn’t going to show up. Figures. The hell was he going to do with himself now? He was four whiskeys down and feeling incredibly buzzed, not wanting his night to end so soon. For a brief, alcohol-induced moment, he even considered the option of attempting to pick someone up, but pushed the thought away as quickly as it had come. Firstly, it was unlikely he would find someone even remotely willing in a club with so many young looking people, and secondly, Len didn’t think he could handle a “morning after” where feelings of regret were bound to come up. That being said, he still found his eyes scanning the dance floor in front of him without his permission, apparently checking out potential candidates. 

Quite abruptly, he found himself staring at none other than the Enterprise’s alpha navigator. Pavel Chekov was smack bang in the middle of the large room, dancing his little heart out with an attractive, young girl he vaguely recognised as another crew member, maybe from the Engineering department. They weren’t dancing like a couple, though, just holding hands in a fun, friendly sort of way and bouncing around to the beat of the music, their rhythm practically non-existent. Len couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of him. Chekov was awfully cute, now at the still-very-ripe age of 22. He was dressed in skin tight, black jeans, boots, and a t-shirt very similar to Len’s. His honey-brown curls were matted to his forehead and an enormous smile was plastered on his face. 

_Another time, another universe, Len._ Certainly not right then and there in a club on a space station in the middle of the galaxy, lightyears away from Earth.

The song came to an end and Chekov laughed with his dance partner, releasing her hands and wiping some sweat from his brow across his arm. He gestured to her as if to ask if she wanted a drink, but she shook her head and nodded over in the direction of where Len had seen that the restrooms were. Chekov gave her a quick hug and pivoted on his heel to start for the bar. He immediately stopped when he spotted Len, pausing for a moment as if trying to figure out if it was actually him. Then he grinned, wide and gorgeous, giving him a quick wave and weaving through the other dancers towards him. Len felt his heart begin to pound and wished he had at least three more drinks in his system.

“Dr. McCoy!” Chekov shouted at him, now standing in his personal space. “What are you doing here?”

Len frowned and crossed his arms. “I’m on shore leave, too, y’know,”

“ _Da_ , obviously! This is not somewhere I thought you would enjoy? Let me guess, the Captain asked you to come?”

“It that obvious?” Len answered with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, but our blessed Captain hasn’t even bothered to turn up, so I’m just sorta standin’ around. I should probably just go,”

Chekov’s hand reached out to touch his arm. “ _Nyet_ , do not be ridiculous. You are here now. Could I buy you a drink?”

“… Sure. Whiskey, please,”

The younger crew member smiled in obvious delight and leaned over the bar, shouting his order to the Andorian and quickly returning to his place in front of Len with two drinks in his hand. He was surprised to see that Chekov had a glass of what he assumed must be vodka, given his recent discovery of the bottle of grade-A scotch in the ensign’s locker. He actually still hadn’t seemed to notice that the liquor had gone missing and Len felt a rush of guilt course through him as he took the glass of whiskey. He’d make it up to the kid one day, order him a bottle of the proper, Russian standard vodka from his hometown or something. 

Chekov drank quickly and placed his glass on the bar. “Will you dance with me?”

The question caught Len off guard and he coughed on his drink a little, wiping the excess liquid from his lips on the back of his hand. He stared at the younger man, all curls and smiles, bright, and green-grey eyes glinting in the dim light. “I don’t dance,” he finally replied.

“ _Oy_ , I do not believe you. A Southern gentleman like yourself must know how to dance! Just one dance, please?”

Before Len could answer again, Chekov was pulling on his arm, encouraging him toward the dance floor and barely giving him enough time to down the last of his drink and leave it behind. He found himself in the same place Chekov had been dancing earlier, only this time he seemed to have replaced the girl he was with. “What about your friend?” He shouted over the music.

“She is okay! We came with others! I will see her a bit later! Now, dance with me!”

Chekov pulled Len’s arms to loop them around his waist and started moving up against him as a new song started to play.

_ How long til you play me the song _  
_That will make me belong to you?_  
_One dance with my baby tonight_  
_And we’ll dance til the night is through_

Len knew he was fucked. Not only was he pretty damn drunk, he had a gorgeous, equally drunk, 22-year-old ensign in his arms, grinding against his crotch in a rhythm to the music that may as well have represented dry humping. Len was dry humping with another officer, in the middle of the dance floor of a club on Starbase Yorktown. It wasn't how he had originally planned his night to go, but now that Chekov had turned around and was rubbing his _ass_ all over Len’s groin, he was starting to just accept that it was actually a pretty good turn around and really shouldn’t complain. Only problem was Chekov was damn intoxicating and Len wanted nothing more than to drag the younger man back to his hotel room and spend hours making him feel good. Not just that, his inebriated brain suggested that he might even like to wake up to Chekov in the morning and buy him breakfast, maybe even cuddle a little first. He was fucking screwed.

_I used to be so ready to run_  
_ My philosophy don’t let nobody_  
_ Come too close to handle my love_  
_ Don’t let it show_  
_ I want it to be you_  
_ Diving into my ocean_  
_ A brand new emotion come true_  
_Don’t let this night_  
_Don't let this night go_  
  
  
  
Chekov quickly spun back around and threw his arms around Len's neck, almost losing balance as he did so, and leaned up on his toes to bring their faces close together. His breath caught in his throat when their lips suddenly came in contact but all it took was one of Chekov's hands sliding up into his hair, tugging with need, and Len gave in to temptation, damning any and all caution he may have still had. The younger man tasted like vodka and something sweet, maybe a fruity cocktail that Len hadn't seen him drink earlier in the night. He was pushing hard up against Len, their cocks rubbing together and making him moan into Chekov's mouth, a little concerned that if they kept this up, he just might come in his pants. 

_Another chance to make it alright_  
_ No circumstance could ever break this_  
_ This spell you have forever on me_  
_On me, on us_  
  
  
The younger man finally eased off, breaking their kiss and pulling back to smile widely at Len, as drunk as he had ever seen him. He couldn't help but to grin back just as brightly, feeling completely giddy on the excitement of it all and thinking just how incredible Chekov felt in his arms as they continued to dance. Len slowed their movements down, pressing his forehead against Chekov's tenderly as the song was coming to an end. 

_ And you’ll play me the song _  
_ Til the night is through_  
_And you'll play me the song_  
_ You’ll make me belong_  
_How long til you play me the song_  
_That will make me belong to you?_  
_One dance with my baby tonight_  
_And we’ll dance til the night is through..._

Chekov stared up at Len, both aware that the song had transitioned into another, yet obviously tired and panting from their previous dancing and grinding. They stood together for a moment, their bottom halves still pinned close and erections straining against each other. Len decided to go out on a limb and leaned in to Chekov's ear, his lips just barely brushing the shell of it.

"Wanna come back to my hotel room?"

Chekov was nodding fiercely. " _Da_ , please. Let's go!"

Len felt a multitude of feelings rush over him all at once, like relief and nervousness, but most of all a sense of pride. He was honestly still surprised that Chekov was evidently attracted to him, and wanted to blame it on the alcohol he had in his system, but Len quickly reminded himself that the younger man initiated everything and never once seemed coerced or even out of control - he had just been very buzzed on the drinks he'd had. The real question would be whether or not Len was likely to see Chekov again this shore leave; if he'd stick around in the morning. To hell with his insecurities, though, and he began tugging the ensign out of the club by his hand, starting to feel quite desperate to fuck him into his hotel bed mattress for the rest of the night.

Back out in the street, Chekov very quickly dragged Len over to the nearby wall and pulled him into a hasty, unexpected kiss, evidently feeling as impatient as he was. Just when things were getting a little too heated for a public space, he heard a wolf whistle nearby and reluctantly broke away, craning his head in search of the perpetrator to tell them to mind their own damn business. He found himself staring at none other than James Tiberius Kirk who had an enormous, shit-eating grin on his face. Len couldn't believe it.

"Bo-ooones! Wow! Looks like you've been having plenty of fun without me! Hey, Pav!"

Len wasn't sure how much he actually liked that Jim and Chekov were on nickname terms with each other, but rolled his eyes and slipped his arm around the ensign's waist. "Nice of you to finally show up, but we were actually just leavin'," he drawled.

"I can see that! Look after him for me, Pav, alright? He hasn't been laid since - " 

"Jesus, Jim, shut the hell up, would ya?!"

Chekov was blushing beside him but grinned. "Of course, Captain, I have every intention," he stated boldly. 

Before the two of them could embarrass Len any further, he started leading the ensign down the street, far, far away from Jim that was calling out goodbye to them and probably other humiliating things. He supposed he wasn't too mad at his friend, though. If he had actually decided to show up, there was a pretty good chance he wouldn't have had this opportunity with Chekov in the first place, and wouldn't _that_ have just been a huge waste? He glanced down at the younger man who was still openly smiling as they walked, swinging their hands between them with happy abandon.

"Hey, what Jim said back there, he was just tryin' to - " 

Chekov chuckled and winked up at Len. "Do not worry, Len," he said, using his nickname, making him blush further. "We have the entire night for you to regain any skills you may have... forgotten. I look forward to, how do you say, breaking you in? We have a whole week of shore leave to get you 'back up to speed'." He waggled his fingers for inverted commas.

Len, though stunned by the ensign's cheekiness and overall youth, couldn't help but to smile back at him, relieved to know that Chekov was keen for more than a one night stand. He had a feeling it was going to be an excellent shore leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Please kudos/comment! I love feedback! :)


End file.
